Perfect
by amethyst x
Summary: We're not all perfect people. Izzie Steven's thoughts on a distroted patients' words, and her scrambled outlook on life. [Oneshot]


When I came in, he was sprawled spread-eagle on the bed, his eyes bloodshot, and his jaw contracted and mouthing something or other.

He was a totally normal guy, I was sure. He had sandy blond hair, a kind of hazel eyes and a nice set of white teeth. If he wasn't twisting in pain and having vivid hallucinations, he would be quite the catch. But I wasn't allowed to think like that anymore.

"Pressures dropping," Meredith mumbled, grabbing something out of drawer. I didn't even know what it was. Things had changed too much.

He raised his hand up straight in the air with a sudden sharp movement. "They're coming," he whispered, his fingers shaking as they were stretched to the heavens. "God … God … they're coming …"

He drew in a sharp breath, his eyes unblinkingly staring at the ceiling. "They see me. They can see me now."

He let out a gasp, and Meredith's voice spoke out from somewhere beside me, "Mr. Adams? Are you okay?"

Maybe I should be doing something. Actually, I was _sure_ I should be doing something. I moved toward the bed, finding it was unnaturally difficult to move. I looked around quickly. There were no residents. That was weird. That _was_ weird, wasn't it?

He gasped again, his calm demeanor suddenly broken as he grasped around aimlessly in the air. "Oh, God, no!" He screamed. "I promised you! You told me they wouldn't come! Oh, no, no, please, I promised!"

He sprang straight up in the bed. His eyes, clouded and confused, swept the room. He was looking for something. I couldn't look away as he found my eyes.

One of the nurses left. Where was she going? This guy was critical. There should be a resident here. There _should_ be someone.

He didn't take his eyes off me. "Don't be afraid of it," he whispered, but I heard it. Everyone heard it.

A pain-staking choke for air echoed through the room. The monitor blared. Meredith rushed by in a sweep of air, blurring the scene, touching him, moving the monitors. She said something. She was looking at me. Okay. Okay.

"Iz?" I blinked, and realized I had been holding my breath. Meredith just stared at me. She hated pity, but she dished it out just as much as she received it. But I guess we're all filthy hypocrites. "Are you okay? Izzie?"

My eyes felt heavy. I was never tired. I was Izzie Stevens. I could function through anything. "I'm fine." My voice sounded like it wasn't even me talking at all. Maybe I wasn't. I couldn't tell anymore.

He was dead. His eyes were wide open, and he was staring into the white abyss of the ceiling, like he had seen something the rest of us couldn't.

Meredith was touching him. She moved his arms. She didn't care. He was just another patient, right?

He spoke to me. He said not to be afraid. The clock ticked beside me, its sounds suddenly deafening. Afraid of what? I wasn't afraid. I was Izzie Stevens. I was _Izzie Stevens_.

_Tick, tick, tick_. It was quarter to two. Meredith moved him again. His eyes were closed. He was so still.

Denny said he didn't just love me because of my looks. It's funny how he told me so many things, but that's the one that stands out most in my mind. That he loved me because of who I was. Not because I was hot. Or pretty. Whatever.

I really loved him. Not that that mattered, what mattered was that he loved me. _Me_. Izzie Stevens. No one _love_ loves Izzie Stevens.

The man, who was lying in front of me, told me to not be afraid. But how could I not? If he knew that I was afraid, he should know it is unpreventable. I brought this upon myself.

"Izzie." Cristina was here. _Why was Cristina here_? She stared at me, frizzes of hair falling in front of her eyes. "What are you, zoned? Get a move on."

I blinked. Why was I doing that so much today? I never blink.

Denny did love me. I killed him, and he loved me. He would never come back. He was gone.

So how could I be fearless without him by my side?

The fuzzy shape of Cristina appeared before me, a mauled apple in her hand. I looked around her. The room was empty. _When did that happen_?

"Where is everyone?" I whispered. Maybe I was losing my mind. _I need help_.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" She muttered, taking a large bite out of the destroyed fruit.

"I don't know." I _do_ know. I'm alone. I'm confused. Help me. "Where's Meredith?"

"Outside … somewhere." She nodded to the hallway. "Now get the hell out. We need this room for a guy with a foreign object lodged in his small intestine."

Meredith. Meredith was in the hallway. I went out, barely even registering as my feet moved me along.

"Izzie." That was like, the fifth time someone's said my name today. _Why_? No one talks to me that much. "Are you feeling all right?"

Okay. Meredith was here. Okay. I can answer. Right. "I'm fine."

A nurse passed by, giving me a dirty stare. I had a reputation now, you know. They say I killed him. They say I didn't even love him. They say I knew about the money all along.

"No, you're not." She stared me down with those insanely piercing eyes of hers. "Did that guy really freak you out before?"

That guy. She didn't care. She didn't even care about the patients dying anymore. Was her mom like that? Is that where she's getting it from?

"A bit. I guess." I stopped. My eyes drifted across the dull corridor walls. "What he said kind of made me a little uneasy –"

"Oh, Izzie. Don't let it bother you." She smiled, like she knew everything and she hadn't just witnessed a man throw his hand up, screaming to the heavens, or hell, address me, and then die. "He didn't even know you."

Right. He doesn't even know me. He doesn't even know anything about me. She was right.

She smiled again. I could see Denny's face. His smile. His eyes. His spirit.

He didn't know anything about me.

_I'm fine_.

I turned, and walked down the hall.


End file.
